


Memoria

by misfiredamage



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, i cried while i wrote this that was fun, just six hundred and ninety six words of pure unfiltered Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 07:06:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14038833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misfiredamage/pseuds/misfiredamage
Summary: It's strange. But sometimes... People remember things that haven't happened to them.





	Memoria

**Author's Note:**

> i saw someone write a thing where mighty nein kept instinctually doing stuff their vm counterparts would do and my hellbrain looked at it and went "what if but angst"

It's strange. But sometimes... People remember things that haven't happened to them.

Sometimes Beau thinks, for a few chilling moments, that her mother is dead, and the weight of the world rests on her shoulders, and she's not ready, and she wants to curl up in Caleb's arms and sob... And then she'll snap back to herself, confused as to why that just happened, pushes it to the back of her mind and sidles up next to Yasha and attempts to make conversation.

Jester's using her medicine kit on Molly after a fight (all tapped out of spells, unfortunately), suturing one of the slices he put in himself, and he's frozen in place, shaking like a leaf and wanting to run as far as his legs will take him because something in his bones is telling him that _this is bad, bad, no no no no no don't hurt me_... Jester pats him on the cheek and gives him a slightly stale donut and he hadn't even realised she'd finished, and then she's skipping off and doesn't he feel foolish for being so scared of her.

There's an ache in Fjord's chest sometimes. Like he's been sliced open, like something's been ripped out of him. It's a relief to have it gone, whatever it was, but the pain shows up out of the blue and knocks the breath out of him, and all he can think each time is _wouldn't my uncle think me even weaker if he could see this_... But he doesn't have an uncle, and the pain passes, and if he orders an extra firewhiskey that night nobody says anything.

Caleb feels half-dead sometimes. His skin is too warm, pulse too fast even at its normal pace - it should be slower, _slower_ , almost gone. He wonders, in these times, how Jester is going to go on without him, they've always had each other and he'll be gone and she'll be alone... But he shakes himself out of it, shoos away the crows that always seem to bother him when he feels like this. Silly thing to think. If he's like a brother to anyone, it's Nott, not Jester...

Some days Nott can't look in the mirror without wanting to vomit. Hate bubbles up in her stomach when she sees her awful sickly green skin, her mouth full of too many too-sharp teeth. Grief, too. Vague and nebulous but still bringing a lump to her throat. She drinks more on those days, cries in Caleb's arms about how she doesn't want to lose him, too. She just wishes she knew _why_.

Yasha stumbles, sometimes, suddenly wracked with pain through her whole torso, like something has punched its way through her chest and out her back. The first time it happens, she finds somewhere hidden and sobs with the pain of it, sure she's dying, expecting to look down and see blood soaking through her clothing and a hole in her chest. There never is one, as much as it feels like there should be, and she's learned to deal with it. She's only ever told Molly, in his tent and high out of her mind, and he held her and told her about the phantom pains he gets (three little holes in his torso, small but burning with pain).

Jester, sometimes, wonders why she's even looking for her father. He didn't even want her, thinks she's such a smear on his reputation, only took her in out of guilt... But that's not right. She hasn't even met him yet. So she ignores the little voice in her head that says her father hates her (and while she's at it, ignores the little voice in her head that says she should be mourning her mother, who is still very much alive thank you very much, stupid little voice).

And then there's something unspoken between the seven of them. The feeling that if everything was _right_ , they would be eight. They go further north and it gets colder and they all get somber and quiet when they see their first snowfall, their first iced over lake. It reminds them all of loss, for some unknown reason.

**Author's Note:**

> first c2 fic  
> i legiterally made myself cry while writing this i hope y'all liked it  
> please leave a comment if you liked it im like a baby i need attention or i'll die


End file.
